


Weighted

by Tane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Captivity, Happy Ending, M/M, SHEITH - Freeform, Voltron, a criminal with a heart of gold, attempted drowning, hand and head injuries, hurt-comfort, lotor is irredeemably evil in this one sorry lotor fans, mermaid, merman, merman!keith, modern pirate!Shiro, random humans die, weighted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 06:13:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15406782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tane/pseuds/Tane
Summary: Shiro rescues a merman during a diving scavanging gig and keeps it a secret from his crew.





	1. Bright

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this [art](http://tane-p.tumblr.com/post/176207151352/modern-pirateshiromerman-keith-au-read-the) hopefully this can help pass the time till I get my ducks in a row with my other sheith merm fic, [Rehabilitation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11254821)

There was no doubt the ship was historical. The structure and decor, the lack of any type of modern sailing equipment, all the wood quietly rotting away, overgrown by ocean flora and now home to countless species of fish, it was beautiful. Dating it would be a field day for any historian, and they would be all over it once Shiro’s crew sells the coordinates to the highest bidder. But not before they’ve done their own personal sweep of the site. Valuable things could be sold for even higher in the right channels of operation, and they were going to milk it for every penny.

Shiro’s crew were competent. A tight knit group of which he was a relatively new member. He was sought out for his free diving skills and offered the job on the spot after proving his worth. As it was explained to him, pirating was a victimless crime. Where most people who find things in the ocean might report it to the authorities, to be sold, studied and displayed in museums, they would just skip the reporting. No need for the middleman, the artifacts end up where they end up anyway, and they profit. It wasn’t stealing, or murdering, or trafficking, it was just exploring. And boy was the money good.

Within the first year of gigs Shiro’s student debt was paid off in full. Half a year after that his car and apartment were secured. An unexpected encounter with a shark left him an amputee and where he thought he could never swim again, his crew surprised him with a beautiful prosthesis, something sturdy and flexible that could withstand the ocean and give him an edge over anything he might have to face should he like to keep working.

He couldn’t imagine any other thing he’d rather do. He’s never felt more at home than he was surrounded by water, the silence and the expanse of it. It hurt him yes, but he was insignificant, just a part of it all, a bigger, beautiful picture he was lucky enough to survive and see another time.

Shiro dove down through a hole on the main deck into what must have been the captain’s quarters. Even though the ship was tilting sideways, the table and a big, once luxurious chair, were still standing upright where they were nailed. Cupboards and display cases were also nailed to the walls, broken pieces of things that were once furniture, cutlery, decorations and even weapons were everywhere. Shiro checked his oxygen, he had about twenty minutes of it left, he should start getting back in half that time giving him ten minutes for a preliminary sweep before he has to report back to the crew. Later they would send more people down here for him to guide, and oversee a thorough pillaging of any thing of value. But for now, he relished in being here, alone, the first one to see this miracle of history since it was sunk hundreds of years ago.

He began sorting out things he could easily carry back and present as grounds for a return trip, something vaguely shaped like a pistol caught his eye and he picked it up. Brushing some of the dirt off of it revealed an intricate ornamental pattern on the handle, scrubbed and restored, a piece like this could be worth a small fortune. He put it in a bag clipped to his utility belt and continued searching, when a noise startled him into dropping the broken monocular he was examining.

A dull _thudding_ sound came from somewhere under the cabin, again and again. He could feel it where his feet touched the wood. Something was in there with him, and it was something big.

His mind supplied him immediately with images of the shark that took away his arm. For a moment, all he could see was red red red, engulfing him. In a bout of hysteria he turned upwards and pushed away towards the hole in the deck, an easy escape route to the safety of his boat, but then a noise unlike anything else he ever heard made him hesitate.

A shrill, echoing scream cut through his ears. Even through the cover of his suit he could feel the vibration of it in his entire body, rattling his oxygen tank. Sharks were quiet, it couldn’t have been one, and the ship was too small for a dolphin or a whale to become trapped so deep within it. It came again, and again, accompanied by the thuds picking up speed until eventually whatever it was began to tire. The voice worked itself raw and began to die down, sounding more and more hoarse.

He wasn’t sure what compelled him to go back but he did. Five minutes remaining for him to start his ascent, he just couldn’t help his own curiosity, and the possibility of helping what he was now imagining to be a trapped baby dolphin of some kind. He swam back down and found a way into the lowermost deck, where a crew would keep additional supplies in storage, and, inside a row of metal grid cells, prisoners. Most of them were damaged somehow, their doors open, rust chewed and shattered. A few were still intact though. And one of them was definitely occupied.

At first Shiro just refused to believe it. It must be a ghost, it must be some figment of his imagination. There couldn’t seriously be a live human in here capable of making such a ruckus. But the pair of arms sticking out of the bars were definitely that. Human. Just like his own, albeit more delicate looking and seemed to be secured together and over a bar with some rough looking rope at the wrists. He couldn’t see the rest of them but it appeared they were sat on the inside of the cell with their back pressed against the grid, and something was in there with them, beating away at the floor and walls.

It occurred to Shiro that whoever this was might be in the process of being eaten by whatever was making the thudding noise, the arms moved in rhythm with it. When Shiro looked closer he noticed the fingers curling and uncurling. That’s when he knew whoever this was, however improbable, must still be alive.

Shiro swam over, readying a small knife from his utility belt and went to grab the hands to undo the ropes. As soon as he got close enough to touch, a face pressed itself into the bars. Shiro could see the side of a cheek, a shaggy mass of black hair and a mouth opened wide in a horrified _‘o’_. He almost dropped the knife when he saw the person appeared to be, for all intents and purposes, breathing. Underwater. Panting. The head moved to the other side, as if trying to get a better look at him and when the hair moved Shiro could see it clearly. Gills on its neck, sucking in water and blowing it out of that mouth. Looking up, big, purple eyes wide and staring met Shiro’s own, bewildered ones. Shiro tightened the grip on his knife unsure of what to do now. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, so he decided to look some more. He turned the flashlight on his mask into the cell, finally discovering the source of the thudding.

A long, coiling, fish tail with frilled fins rampaged around the cell, hitting everything in its path like a panicked eel. The spotlight traced its end at the prisoner’s torso, where it fused together forming a smooth conversion from scales to pale skin.

Shiro had no other choice now but to believe what he was seeing. A real life merman.

The creature strained against his bonds trying to twist more, to look behind better. His chest rose and fell, short and sharp with every movement of that long tail, and the eyes turned to him were full of what could only be utter desperation. Shiro got to work. Two more minutes till he has to start ascending. It should be plenty of time. He grabbed the twitching and wringing wrists in one hand and started sawing at the rope with the knife. They were slender enough to be comfortably held down by his stronger prosthesis, reducing the frantic movements to something he could manage and not cut at the skin as he worked.

There was no telling how long the creature was here, and Shiro did start to worry about what or who could have possibly captured and left him like this. But there wasn’t much more time to dwell when the last of the rope snapped off and the merman was released. Immediately, the arms retracted into the cell, and the merman shot forward darting around the confined space like an angry snake trapped in a basket. Shiro didn’t know how he was going to get the door open but it ended up not being an issue when the merman righted himself, then proceeded to thread his entire body neatly through a gap between the bars. Finally free.

Shiro pushed himself out of his way, keeping the knife in his hand just in case as he shot past him. The merman was long and thin, moving languidly in the water. Shiro noticed that he was no longer panting, using his nose to expel the water the gills were filtering? Ridiculous that he was even making these observations as a real honest to god merman floated in front of him. Shiro shined the spotlight along his body as he moved around, he brought his hands up when it reached his face and Shiro promptly turned it off. The moment he did the only source of light became the merman’s eyes, gently bathing the deck in a luminous purple glow.

Shiro just stared, those captivating eyes holding him in place. He didn’t even notice the merman was right in front of him, [right up in his face](https://twitter.com/Its_Tane/status/1046072512692572160), tail moving minimally just to stay there. He allowed the merman to touch his face, and let his hand trail down his shoulder and over his prosthesis. A watch was strapped to it and once his eyes fell on it he remembered.

Time.

He had to get back.

The merman recoiled from his surprise, but his tail somehow found its way behind Shiro’s legs, tripping him when he made to move back. As he caught himself and made for the exit, he could swear he heard that same voice again, still hoarse from screaming, laughing at him. 

Shiro looked down on the ship as it grew smaller and smaller under his feet, belatedly realizing that he had dropped his knife in the confusion. He still had to take breaks on his way up which allowed him to look at where the merman circled and swam about. At this distance, he just looked like a very big water snake and Shiro was absurdly glad likely no human could mistake him for what he is from any kind of distance. At his last few meters, he rummaged through the sack he’d brought with him and emptied its contents, letting the water abyss swallow the pistol and other trinkets he’d picked up. Something in him told him he should keep this one to himself, and Shiro listened. 


	2. Free

Keith watched the diver slowly beat those fake fins of his, shedding the things he had taken from the ship as he went. Humans weren’t new to Keith, he’d seen them before. But he’d never gotten this close to one. At first he thought it might have been Lotor coming back, but what an immense relief it was to see the diver there instead. Someone kind enough to help. He was unexpectedly cold to the touch, where Keith got the chance to. He remembered the powerful grip he had on his hands as he thrashed, unable to rein in his nerves with a sharp thing so close to his skin. In the end he was grateful but where the ropes had left their marks, so did his hold.

He stared at it, and then up at the last splashes of the diver disappearing at the side of a distant little boat at the surface. He should be upset about the mark. He should be upset about owing a human his freedom. But as the pistol floated down by him, abandoned, Keith remembered he’d dropped his knife earlier in his haste to ascend. Surprisingly the thought of giving it back was not bothersome at all. A favor had to be returned. No matter how small. So what if Keith actually wanted to see him again maybe?

The merman booked it back to the ship, taking care to watch for any signs of Lotor but thankfully it should be a while longer before he usually comes. The luminescence of his eyes quickly picked up the glint of clean metal and he used some of the cut-up rope to make a necklace of it for safekeeping. The weight of it was curious on his chest, the movements of the water picking it up and down, the sharp tip teasing his skin but not enough to cut. _Could be useful_ , he thought. But it didn’t belong to him.

When he got back out the boat was already a good distance away. He pumped his tail, swimming close to the ocean floor while keeping an eye out for its course.

The water all around him was getting colder, the purple shine of his eyes catching the particles in the water more easily as light from above filtered out into blackness. It was night when the boat began to slow down. Keith swam up carefully, maneuvering around the turmoil of the engine. The last thing he needed was his tail getting caught and torn to shreds.

Keith’s eyes were two thin slits in the black of the water as he circled the boat, looking for a good place to attach the knife. A low rail at the back revealed itself to be the optimal spot. He hooked an arm over a bar and pulled the knife necklace off him with the other, wincing when the rough rope pulled at some of his hair. Quick work was made of [attaching it to the rail](https://twitter.com/Its_Tane/status/1046387044849786881), and before anyone could see, he was off, diving seamlessly back into the water.

Underneath the shadow of the boat, in the quiet, Keith could hear the cling-clang of the knife swaying and beating against the rail, but something else was making a similar noise. It made him linger a bit before deciding to follow his senses to the other side. A human, sitting down and dangling his legs from the deck was leaning front and both arms on the rail, tapping two metal fingers against it in a random rhythm. Keith knew right away it was him, reservations be damned something compelled him to take a closer look. Just for a second, he poked his head out of the surface in the shelter of the boat’s shade.

No suit to hide a powerful swimmer’s body, dark hair cropped short at the neck with a longer turf over the front, no mask to obscure a handsome face. Even in the dark Keith could tell the eyes he had seen through the glass earlier were the same. Thoughtful, kind, searching. He wondered at length what had happened to him, what left the mark on his face and took away his arm. Without realizing it, he’d drifted closer, the sight making him forget to keep his eyelids hooded. The glow must have caught the human’s eye because his head jerked down suddenly from staring up at the moon to searching the waters beneath his legs. Keith blinked and dove down, splashing the surface carelessly in his haste.

Down down down all the way to the bottom where even the glow of his eyes couldn’t be seen from the surface he swam, till he hit the sand and stayed there, his heart beating in his ears like a metronome of gunshots. Stupid. This was the kind of thing that got merfolk killed. Or fished out of the water never to be seen again. Keith wasn’t an idiot, but he couldn’t get the human out of his head either. He imagined him like this, bare skin and pale eyes swimming over to him, drawn to his light. Keith knew he had that effect on people, sometimes prey would come right over and let him grab it without a fight. Sometimes pretty merfolk with flowing white hair and their own glowing pair of eyes from another reef would call him _‘beautiful’_ and want to show him their secret shipwreck.

It took too long for Keith to realize he wasn’t, in fact, imagining it. The human really was there, painstakingly making his way down without any equipment to help him breathe and move. His arms parted the water powerfully but they were nothing to a merman’s tail. Keith’s tail didn’t take the advantage to run away. In fact it was propelling him upwards on its own accord to meet the human again.

Damn he really was an idiot, wasn’t he?

The human stopped trying to swim and let him come up to him, face to face again. Keith’s hands ached to touch him, explore more of that tender human skin, how was he even down here without all the stuff they use to breathe? Amazing. His eyes were darting all over Keith’s face, shining in the reflection of his light. He looked mesmerized for a bit, but then he snapped out of it just as Keith was beginning to bring his hands to the human’s face. Two big hands covered his own, one flesh, one metal, then gently pushed them down and away.

Keith’s brows knit in confusion and disappointment. Why else would he come down here? If not to explore and look and touch? He could see the human’s strained expression, his stomach twitching slightly, the muscles of his neck standing out unnaturally. He looked at Keith and pointed to the boat, and then into the ocean, his metal arm flicking in the general direction of 'away'. Keith followed it, then looked back at him. He was mouthing something like _‘no’_ or...

“Go!” he said, a stream of bubbles escaping, and the commanding tone of his voice almost made Keith cry. His tail beat between them in reply, tearing out of the human’s space and propelling himself backwards. His eyes were big and hurt as he tore through the water. Away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most mers make seashell necklaces for themselves. Not Keith.


	3. Question

Shiro picked his way around the crew’s questions as carefully as he could. He knew he wasn’t a great liar, part of him suspected that was one of the reasons he was chosen as their scout. In the precious minutes he had between ascension and boarding the boat he hastily put together a story to tell them: There was a shark down there, feeding on something it killed. He could see other fish coming over and starting a frenzy, that’s when he hid in the shadows of the shipwreck’s ruined woodwork till he absolutely had to leave, having used up all his oxygen, though he wasn’t able to go anywhere near the ship. His knife was lost, due to a faulty clip. He could feel the captain wasn’t completely buying it. And neither was the first mate. But the story tracked with his history. Anyone would be scared of sharks, and Shiro had a better reason than most.

It was the most stressed he’d been since his actual real encounter with a shark. But he repeated the tale to the crew and endured their silent judgment. Most were sympathetic, understanding. He knew things couldn’t really go back to being the same now that he had their pity again. After he lost his arm, he worked his butt off scrubbing that look off of their faces for missing the gigs while at the hospital, while the prosthesis was new. He wasn’t sure he could do that again after this gig was over.

It was the first time he lied to them and he hated himself for it, they’ve been like a family to him for more than two years. This crew and the gigs were everything he’d known since coming out of college for air. But he just couldn’t be sure what their intentions would be for a mythical creature being real. Everything they found was always sold or auctioned off, and while historical trinkets were ripe for the taking in Shiro’s mind what seemed to be an intelligent, thinking being, was not.

That night he sat on the deck, trying to get the merman out of his head. It must be a world wonder, a secret miracle he had to protect. Shiro couldn’t bear to think of that beautiful creature sealed off somewhere in a fish tank, or studied in a lab. He didn’t even know if there were more, though he suspected he wasn’t put where Shiro found him by a human. He had so many questions. Wasn’t he trying to stop thinking about this?

Something in the corner of his vision caught his eye. The moon’s reflection wasn’t where it should have been, the only light source out here wasn’t supposed to actually be blinking on a cloudless night. He gasped when he saw them in the water, eyes like two purple light bulbs, staring at him. Wide and curious. Shiro stiffened and looked behind him, the deck was his at this time but if someone came up for some air or a smoke, they might see him. He had to do something. By the time he stood up the merman was already gone, catching just the splashing tail end of his hurried dive. If he stayed around and came back to someone who wasn’t Shiro, he could be in danger. All of Shiro’s lies could be traced back to him.

He slid into the water as quietly as possible. Normally he’d do a high curved jump to really push down with all of his weight and get more depth out of the momentum but he couldn’t risk anyone seeing him go in, hopefully nobody heard the splash he’d made. Shiro swam hard down, the salty water and his own buoyancy fighting his every stroke, following the light down towards the sand. As suspected, the merman didn’t go far, and it was a relief when the creature floated up to meet him. His lungs were starting to burn but he’s been free-diving his entire life. He could do this.

Just like before, he was awestruck. The light was both blinding and compelling at the same time. Merpeople were just like that weren’t they? In all the stories they seduced humans, they were playful and curious, and got sailors to walk right off their ships into the deep to be turned, or eaten. He didn’t feel afraid, thought he ought to have been, the merman had the chance to kill him twice already and didn’t.

Shiro’s forgotten to blink, letting the salt sting his eyes till the slight burn sobered him up. He caught the curious hands that came up to touch his face, strangely calm about this instinct for exploration, and begged him to go. He had to go. When mouthing and miming wasn’t enough he said it out loud, releasing all the air left in his lungs and hoping that would impress upon him the immediate danger he was in.

It worked. He should have been glad. But the last thing he saw was the betrayed look in the merman’s eyes as he pulled away and disappeared into the darkness.

Later when he emerged, gasping for air, one of the younger crew mates were there to pull him up, jokingly asking if he fell in. Shiro sheepishly excused himself with diving down for something shiny that caught his eye. It was mostly true. Maybe one day, he could come here again and look for the merman. If he even stuck around. Shiro hoped he could at least apologize. But not today. Today Shiro hoped he was far far away. Gone.

\---

Out of the whole crew Sen was the only one openly hostile with Shiro. He was the first mate and upholder of discipline. Where the captain held a more relaxed leash on the crew Sen was always there to tighten it. Shiro and him had a little rivalry going on being close in age but it was never anything that compromised the work. Shiro was the new guy, and Sen had his experience, his post, and the captain’s ear. It was never even a competition.

Sen wasn’t playing nice. Sending Shiro glares and sneers at every opportunity. Sure wasting yesterday for a shark scare was understandably a burden, but Shiro couldn’t tell if it was because he just thought he was pathetic for running away or if he flat out didn’t believe the story. Either way, there was nothing that could disprove for certain that Shiro had in fact seen a shark, so he hoped Sen could work through whatever problem he had.

In the morning, they were going back in the shipwreck together, paired up by the captain, so Shiro didn’t have to deal with anything like the sharks alone again. It stank of mistrust also, that the first mate was sent in with him to babysit gigs Shiro could do in his sleep.

The Ship was quiet this time. Thankfully. They went inside and Sen made sure to point his mask everywhere he could so the camera mounted there captured everything. His own idea. The place was just as fruitful as Shiro remembered. They gathered up plenty of things just from the upper decks to bring back and likely this could be a whole team job once they make their report. Shiro thanked the stars for being able to do this in silence and not having to talk to his diving partner. They still communicated the necessary amount via hand gestures but nothing beyond. The job keeping them both occupied. At some point Shiro went down to the captain’s quarters, remembering it was a good place for trinkets and began canvassing it for the last of the space in his bag when he noticed something odd.

It was the pistol he’d picked up yesterday, the one he shook out of the bag as he swam to the surface. Shiro had just enough time to wonder what it was doing back here when a noise made him jerk up in alarm. He’d absently stashed the pistol in the bag again and made it out to where he thought Sen was still rummaging for things. He could see his diving partner scrambling to right himself and looking around wide-eyed like a maniac, before noticing Shiro and furiously signing to follow him outside.

Shiro did, with his heart in his mouth, hoping absurdly that it really was just an actual shark this time. He followed Sen until he disappeared behind the side of the ship but by the time he’d gotten there the man was just floating in the water, looking into the deep and angling the camera down towards some disturbed sand floating away where something either pushed off of it, or burrowed in. Shiro came behind him and tapped his shoulder, which seemed to tick him off cause he jerked away and glared again. Shiro checked his watch and signed that they should start getting back, whatever this was, they shouldn’t be staying here. Sen seemed to agree, even if he did bump hard into Shiro’s shoulder on his way up.

The whole way up Shiro stressed about what it could have been that Sen saw. It sounded like something surprised him inside and escaped into the deep. What if it was the merman and that asshole had gotten a good shot? What would Shiro do then? They’d hunt him down for sure and it would all be his fault. They’ll figure out why he lied and then who knows what they’ll do to him?

Once on the boat and free of most of the diving gear Sen stormed right into the control cabin, not even drying his hands before grabbing the nearest laptop and plugging the camera’s memory card into it. Shiro followed him in along with a couple of the crew. The captain was already there, folding his arms over his chest. His one eye that could still open scanned both of them before directing his attention to the screen.

Sen played the footage, slowly at first, then got impatient and sped it up to when it happened. The recording was blurry from all the sudden movements but after a few tries Sen managed to isolate a few frames where a long fish tail could be seen. Shiro stared at it wide eyed, searching for locks of inky black hair and fanning spiny fins but finding none. It was the wrong colour too. The longer he looked the more incorrect everything got. Strands of long white hair blocked the lens at one point, Sen ranted about being struck in the face with a pointy elbow and in the chest with a clawed hand, now that Shiro got a good look at him, his nose was bleeding, and parts of the suit were definitely torn. It was a miracle this thing didn’t get at his oxygen or his mask. Or his throat. Though from the sound of it, it just made its escape after being startled.

“That your fucking shark Shirogane?” Sen spat, turning in the stool to look at him. “Cause it sure didn’t look like one to me.”

Shiro looked at the screenshot, and squared his jaw.

“Well I didn’t see it, you did,” he insisted.

“This ain’t no shark,” someone piped in.

“Yea looks like a big eel to me.”

“What are those white things?”

“Fins?”

Sen shot up form the stool and looked from the crew, to Shiro, to the captain.

“This thing had hands. And elbows. _It wasn’t an eel_ .”

The footage was played again and again, till the whole crew had seen it at least once. Everyone had some kind of opinion, but the aforementioned arms didn’t make it into the capture. So whatever Sen said, the general consensus was it was some kind of a big eel, or a water snake. Shiro was just glad whatever that was, it wasn’t his merman. The captain had Sen sent to the medic they had on board to get sorted, and Shiro made it back to the stuff they brought with them for appraisal.

Optimally, another pair or group of divers would have been sent right away to salvage everything else Sen and Shio couldn’t carry, but they’ve decided to wait a few hours and hope the eel thing was gone before coming back. Shiro emptied out the bags on a crate they had nearby, studying the pistol he’d found back in its place.

“Who put you there?” he said to himself, turning it over before settling down to clean it. Later when the captain came by to question him, he repeated his lie like a mantra. He didn’t see anything, he wasn’t there. It didn’t look like a shark, but yesterday it was.

He wasn’t sure he could keep this up for much longer. The Captain left without another word, and Shiro’s thoughts wandered back to the pretty purple eyes he’d seen just yesterday. He knew full well the footage couldn’t have been an eel, or a shark.

He was almost done cleaning most of the trinkets when a tap on his shoulder got his attention. It was Sen, folding himself carefully to sit on a crate opposite where Shiro worked. Shiro looked him over, noting the bruise on his face and the plastered bandages on his bare chest. He wasn’t going diving anywhere soon, not until that wound wasn’t in danger of getting infected.

Sen looked at Shiro just as intently, eyes raking him from his hand to his face, searching.

“What did you see?” he asked, voice low and private. People were around them, which made Shiro feel somewhat safer than had Sen caught him in a more isolated space. But there was no escaping Sen if he really wanted something. This boat was his as far as the captain and crew were concerned. And Shiro was a nobody.

“I told you, I didn’t see anything--” he began, but Sen just made an impatient gesture at him.

“Not this morning. Yesterday. What did you see _yesterday_?” He said it long and slow, like Shiro was a bit thick. Shiro rolled his eyes and [crossed his arms over his chest](https://twitter.com/Its_Tane/status/1046430679062450176) defensively.

“Don’t fucking say shark,” Sen snapped, cutting Shiro off at starting to say exactly that. He lifted off the crate so he could use his hands to drag it closer to where Shiro was sitting, and leaned elbows on knees, getting real close. Despite their proximity in age, Sen was bigger, bulkier, taller than him. He could make any man nervous, and Shiro was irked to register the tactic as a hundred percent working. He remained still where he was, bracketed by the bulk of Sen’s shoulders from the rest of the crew going about their business, just staring at him. Shiro wasn’t sure what to say but Sen seemed to settle into doing all the talking.

“Let me just ask you this, smartass. You said you lost your knife out there, was it the shark who tied it all pretty with a little bow to the rail? Tell me, Shirogane, since you are clearly the expert, how many sharks do you know can do something like that?” Shiro stiffened, tried to collect himself, to protest.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tried to say flatly, but his weak tone betrayed him. Sen was already reaching into his trouser pocket, wincing when the movement disturbed his wound, and to Shiro’s horror, producing his knife. It dangled from a rope between two fingers like a pendulum, teasing Shiro’s white face. He recognized that rope, and the few longish strands of black hair stuck to it. 

“Quite a talented little shark, isn’t it? Such craftsmanship. Were you kissing it thank you when Mathew fished you out of the water last night?”

Shiro stood up suddenly and Sen followed him, a mistake, as the other man now towered over Shiro indefinitely and was at the perfect distance to lean down a bit and whisper in his ear.

“Whatever attacked me had hands and claws that did this,” he said, putting one hand over his bandages, then slowly extended the other to rest on the wall by Shiro’s head. “That wasn’t an eel. ”

Shiro took a shaky breath and let it out around Sen’s neck.

“And whoever did _this_ ,” Sen said, punctuating the last word with sticking the knife into the wood by Shiro’s face on the other side, then leaned back to look him in the eyes. “was no shark either _._ “

Shiro held his gaze for as long as he could before it slid forward to rest on the captain, standing some distance away behind them, his hands clasped at his back, listening but not intervening. It wasn’t just the captain either. Some of the crew began to gather around them too now, nobody stopped the events that unfolded shortly after Sen’s little interrogation was over.

“So I ask you again. _What did you see yesterday?_ ”


	4. Debt

Keith sulked, watching over the boat from a distance. He’d drifted closer to the island hugging the waters they chose to spend the night in and found an outcropping of rocks to sit on, angrily devouring his bounty.  
  
It was bad enough he had just spent what was likely weeks in a cell with an insane merperson, on top of that he could just feel in his bones the debt he owed the human wasn’t paid. Returning the knife was either too small a gesture or it got interrupted somehow. If only his rescuer wasn’t a complete _shrimp_ , he could be half-way home by now, safe in his reef where people just kind of ignored him and not yelled at him to go away.  
  
Only, of course, he wasn’t a _complete_ shrimp. He was beautiful, and curious, and kind. And where Lotor only pretended to be charmed by Keith’s eyes, he was pretty sure this human actually was. Keith suspected the banishment was on account of the other humans on the boat, knowing the type of people who raided shipwrecks were the exact kind of humans to stay away from. So how come this one was different?  
  
He threw the bones of his kill away and slid back dramatically, stretching his arms and tail. It’s been so long since he could do that he allowed the ordinary little pleasure of it to comfort him, closing his eyes and biting down on his urge to sing. His voice must be a wreck now anyway, and not a good idea to attract anyone to his little sanctuary for the night. His mind drifted, letting the warm shallows blanket him, and the sound of the tide lull him to sleep.

\---  
  
Keith woke up with a moan of discomfort, a tightness in his chest dragging him out of the dream abyss. Something was tearing at him and once he broke surface to look for the boat he understood. It was nowhere to be seen. No the knife didn’t work, the human had the entire night to find it but didn’t. And now the debt was still nesting in his heart, pulling him towards its owner.  
  
He could sort of instinctively figure out which way the boat went from how the tightness mellowed out upon hitting the right direction, but as that breathless, nagging pain went away the closer he got, it was only replaced by the reality of where it took him. Lotor’s secret shipwreck.  
  
Keith hated this, he shouldn’t be back here, none of this was his fault. If the greedy humans wanted to fling themselves into Lotor’s very sharp, very strong open arms they were welcome to it. A dark part of him thought maybe Lotor will kill the human, and release Keith from his debt. Maybe it can all be over and he will be free. But the thought quickly died inside him as he spotted two divers coming down. He hid in a rock a little ways away and watched, recognizing that metal arm even from a distance.  
  
He was going in. His human was going in.  
  
Keith didn’t know what to do. He was dizzy from swimming so hard to catch up, still undecided on how exactly he should go about repaying his debt if nobody took him out of his misery. So he stayed put. trying to think. They might still go away, he could wait till dark and try to find him again like last time. If he swims to him he could take him away and explain.  
  
After a while the humans came back outside, disappearing behind the ship for a moment before going back up to the boat, their attached bags full to the brim with Lotor’s precious trinkets. He had a knack for collecting, Keith remembered Lotor proudly showing him scales from the merfolk he’d kept before Keith, harvesting their essence. He shuddered recalling the fondness in his voice as he talked about how precious they were, while slowly bleeding him dry. He used to get around the favor part by feeding and keeping him alive. For as long as it took anyway. Some were lifetimes, some where mere handfuls of years. Keith wondered which one he would have been had he stayed.  
  
There was no chance Lotor was going to be happy about neither Keith’s escape or the loss of his things. Keith just wished they’d go already. Haven’t they taken enough? But they stayed. Long after they surfaced they stayed. What were they waiting for? Keith chanced a look at the shipwreck from the safety of his hideout.  
  
He gasped when he saw Lotor, swimming up slow and steady towards their boat, eventually rising above the surface, then going back down to circle it. Keith’s heart raced, he watched as the big merman scouted a place for himself to board the boat and promptly disappeared from view. Keith’s lingering indecision was short lived though, when something splashed back into the water from the side of the boat shortly after.  
  
[It wasn’t Lotor](https://twitter.com/Its_Tane/status/1046711080649723904)[.](https://twitter.com/Its_Tane/status/1046567476023226369)


	5. Weighted

There was nowhere for him to go. Shiro thought briefly of fighting back but quickly sobered up about it. It would be useless. The boat was several weeks into open water, the island from yesterday was a good too many miles away for him to reach in one swim and even if he did they would just hunt him down. He begged them to listen even as Sen was handed the handcuffs to clamp on him but it was no use.

Everyone thought Sen was a little crazy, indulging him only because Shiro obviously lied about _something_. Even Mathew’s well intentioned though weak objections died down when the captain spoke.

He was an older man, tanned, bearded, tattooed, with one eye permanently closed from an old injury of some kind. He radiated calm authority and had the crew’s utmost respect. Including Shiro’s own. He’s been good to them, to their pockets, running a tight operation and always coming up with solutions to pick up the slack when tips went cold, or buyers were difficult. He was made of something Shiro could only strive to be someday. He gave Shiro his back and he was glad for it, not knowing what he would do if he had to make eye contact with the man.

“I’ve been running this boat for fifteen years, and before that, crew on six others,” he began, addressing the crew. Sen hovered by Shiro, keeping a hand on his shoulder, as if he wasn’t already rooted in place. “You could say I’ve been at sea my entire life, unlike many of you here. Yesterday Takashi saw something down there,” his voice dropped low and serious and Shiro could practically hear everyone holding their breath. “It was no shark. Today Sen saw it too.”

“Fellows, it was their first time seeing merfolk. But it ain’t mine.”

The crew exploded into harsh whispers amongst themselves following this insane statement, Shiro’s heart sank along with his shoulders.

“It’s true!” Sen confirmed, yelling over them. “The thing that attacked me was half human!”

“This is ridiculous,” Shiro tried to say but Sen’s fingers buried themselves into his clavicle making him gasp. It was drowned in the noise as the crew got more and more scandalized.

“It’s sweet on this one,” Sen pushed Shiro forward to stumble awkwardly into a ring formed by how the crew members positioned themselves, closing the gaps and trapping him there with the captain and first mate. The captain spoke again, his booming voice parting the sailors’ cacophony easily.

“Last night it came here to deliver the knife he lost. It is told that if a merfolk owes a human a favor they are doomed to follow them till either the debt is paid or one of them dies.” With that he turned to Shiro, appraising him. “If that thing tried to kill you last night, you wouldn’t be standing here, defending it.”

Shiro looked at the crew all around him, looking for a sliver of hope, of support. Mathew was wavering at the edges of the circle, too timid. Shiro didn’t blame him. He wouldn’t want the crew turning on them both, it’d be no good. He couldn’t believe they were buying it. If he hadn’t seen one with his own two eyes, he’d... he didn’t know what he would believe. He raised his cuffed hands in front of him, pleading.

“Please,” he said to the crew, and then the captain. “He didn’t do anything, he was trapped down there and I helped him, that’s it. Last night, I told him to go and he did!”

The captain’s face hardened like Shiro had never seen before.

“You are young, and fanciful. This creature has you under its charm and you want to see it again. Many years ago my wife helped a mer out of a fishing net, it paid her back by _dragging her into the ocean_.” The crew was quiet as he told the story, Shiro had no idea the captain was married. Weeks after she helped the beached creature be free it stalked her from the shore, unable to leave, till she decided to go to it. He never saw her again.

“They’re _monsters!_ And the next time it comes for you,” Sen said, pointing at Shiro with his own knife. “We are going to _kill_ it. Do us all good, including you.”

“No, he’s not like that!” Shiro screamed over the rising cheers of the crew, it was drowned in the midst of an impossibly louder reprise when Sen yelled about selling the corpse to the highest bidder, making them all rich.

Shiro fought this time, desperately, as a handful of crew wrestled him down and helped Sen lock a spare anchor weight to the chain between his hands. Now he understood why the cuffs were necessary. They were going to use him as bait.

“Don’t worry handsome,” Sen said, patting his cheek now that Shiro couldn’t bring his hands up to deter him. “Behave, and you won’t get thrown overboard.” That done, the people holding him let go and grabbed hold of the weight instead, dragging him along. Now that the show was over it was only a matter of time until the merman showed up again, according to the lore. If it was even true. Shiro still hoped his merman was gone, but that said nothing of whoever kept him tied up in a cell before all this.

“You don’t have to do this,” Shiro said, still panting from the fight he had put up. “He’s already gone, he’s not coming!”

“Save it for your sweetheart,” Sen snapped, dragging Shiro towards the side of the boat by the elbow of his prosthesis. Without the people holding the weight, Shiro wouldn’t have been able to go very far on his own. He dug his heels in but it was no use. Led by the first mate, Shiro’s arms were swung over the rail, metal digging into the skin of his chest and armpits as he was forced to bend over it, wrapping his ankles around the bottom parts just to keep himself from being pulled down further.

“Please, you don’t understand!” He said desperately, feeling his shoulders and back already beginning to strain. He couldn’t lift his hands at all. “The thing that attacked you-- it wasn’t him!”

Sen started to say something to him when a scream ripped through the deck. Just as abruptly as it began, it was cut off. Shiro looked over his shoulder to where it came from, the people closest to the back of the boat started a small commotion that rippled to the rest of them. Everyone scrambled for some kind of weapon, some for a hiding place. Sen held Shiro’s knife’s at the ready.

There was more screaming and what sounded like fighting. Whatever happened, it didn’t stop at one crew member. By the time Shiro could see it, it was covered in blood like something out of a nightmare. Long strands of white hair were matted with red, it was on its hands and arms up to the elbows, on its spiked tail-fin, but most disturbing, all over its face and chest. Shiro knew it wasn’t the creature’s blood but it was made clear when a cut on its forehead bled gold. The same colour as its wicked, pupil-less eyes.

Shiro was frozen with terror, as were all the others while the thing slithered with ease all over the blood-washed deck on its powerful tail like a cobra. It paused at the sound of a gunshot echoing from somewhere behind Shiro. It missed the creature, hitting metal somewhere off to the side. A couple more gunshots were fired and Shiro saw someone falling over. The only one with a gun on this boat was the captain, who only had one eye open and a pair of shaky, alcoholic’s arms.

The mer looked the captain up and down briefly, before coiling like a spring and crushing into him, toppling them both to the floor. The captain must have been pinned under its enormous body. Shiro couldn’t see very well behind him but in the corner of his eye the long tail could be seen thrashing around, effectively blocking any attempt at rescuing their captain. A sickening metallic crunch had him imagining the mer crumpled the gun with its bare hands. But that couldn’t be right.

Then it spoke. Voice deep, rumbling, and thickly accented. Ridiculously British. It managed to sound echoing despite the endless expanse of a boat in open waters.

“You dare bring this pathetic display into my territory?” Shiro could feel that voice in his bones. By now, every part of him was aching with the strain of keeping himself on board. He had to get away somehow before all the joints in his arms come out of their sockets. Sen was still by him, not exactly leaping into action to help his captain. Shiro tried to get his attention while the thing monologued and the dumbfounded crew let it.

“I knew humans were foolish but this is some nerve I have not yet seen,” it said, and Shiro heard a thump, and a crash, and a crack. Probably the captain trying to fight the creature off. Probably breaking some bones.

“You have the audacity to come into _my_ waters--”

Shiro whispered Sen’s name, but the other man was practically unresponsive, watching in grey horror as the creature tortured their captain.

“Ransack my _home_ \--”

Shiro breathlessly pleaded with Sen to uncuff him but it fell on deaf ears. He tried to swing his arms as inconspicuously as he could, attempting to bring the weight either back on deck or, if he absolutely had to fall over, into the lifeboat hanging off to the side. But that was a bit of a stretch.

“Steal _my_ treasures--”

It was working, he was getting a good momentum, then he felt a hand grab at his bare back, moving around, _patting_. Shiro realized hysterically Sen was searching for something to grab him with.

“Steal _my mate!_ ”

Shiro yelped as he was grabbed by the waistband of his swimming trunks and tipped off balance, releasing his ankles’ anchoring hold.

“You want him so badly?” Sen said, “Go fish.”

Shiro didn’t have time to register how that went over with the mer who was currently dispatching his crew, he didn’t have time to do much of anything but fill his lungs with the deepest breath he could manage and meet the rushing waves in a forced swan dive. He could only be comforted the idleness of the boat meant the engine was off and he wasn’t going to get ground into shark food.

But even the best free-diver in the world couldn’t magically breathe in the water. He’ll take more time than most, enhanced lung capacity and all, but as he sank, he tried to come to terms with his impending demise. Swallowed by the ocean after all.  
  
\---  
  
[Keith made a beeline to the sinking human](http://tane-p.tumblr.com/post/176207151352/modern-pirateshiromerman-keith-au-read-the), out-swimming even his own fear of being so close to Lotor’s clutches. The dive wasn’t voluntary, there was something heavy attached to his hands and it was pulling him down fast. Keith had to adjust his angle and start swimming down once he was close enough and saw the human just shoot right past him. He was trying to swim up, pulling at his hands and kicking his legs but only barely managing minor changes in the weight’s trajectory, just a little bit to the side, and not at all up.

Keith dove down and made to grab hold of the weight, he pumped his tail as hard as he could and when it accidentally hit the human’s legs he opened his eyes. The sight of Keith made him pause for a moment, but he quickly accepted what was happening and together they redoubled their efforts, legs and tail working together.

But it soon became apparent they were only slowing down what was an inevitable descent, and Keith could feel the strain on him as the human stopped moving.

Keith didn’t let go. He put his whole body into it, cursing him for giving up. He couldn’t die, it wouldn’t be fair! Not when Keith was so close to returning the favor! But when he saw the look on the human’s face he faltered too. Eyes half lidded, cheeks flushed, trying not to let any air escape, the straining colon of his neck. He was going to die there, and he was accepting it. He could stay conscious for longer if he didn’t fight.

They quickly reached the bottom, and Keith went for the restrains. Trying anything he could think of to break the lock, cut the chain, when teeth and claws didn’t work he tried using a stone. The human just floated whichever way the water jostled him, still awake but losing it a bit at a time.

When Keith grew frustrated with that too he looked up at him, seeing him trying to get his attention in the corner of his eye. He was trying to say something without letting air out, mouthing ' _he’s looking for you_ ’ and ' _go_ ’ over and over again. The seed of terror that statement put in Keith made him want to slap him. Here he was, _dying_ , and still worrying about _him_. They met just yesterday and this beautiful, wonderful person was ready to drown in his last efforts to save him.

“No. I’m staying.” Keith said, and he seemed taken aback by that somewhat. But he just closed his eyes and shook his head. Keith grabbed his flesh arm and squeezed hard enough to leave a mark. He had to stay awake.

His wrist was already bruised and bloody from the metal cuff around it, but that pain didn’t seem to do much anymore. It looked dark and raw. Keith’s eyes raked the problem again, looking everywhere from the metals of the cuffs, chain, and weight to that of his arm. _Not his arm_. It was merely attached to him.

Keith weighted briefly the consequences of what he was about to do, concluding that if they both lived through this, the human could potentially find it in himself to forgive him. It was alright too, if he couldn’t. He’d still be alive.

“Hold my hand,” he commanded, squeezing the metal hand till he felt cold, big fingers curl around him weakly. It would have to do.

“I’m sorry,” Keith said as he positioned the wrist over the bulk of the weight then brought the rock he’d used to attack the lock hard down on the joint. A couple of tries and it came away with a sickening _clunk_ , like the world’s most horrible handshake, detaching at the wrist and slipping out of the cuff. The human screamed at that, loosing what little air he had left in a blur of bubbles. But Keith forced himself to ignore it as he jammed the detached hand’s thumb into his mouth and told him to bite. He did, eyes wide one second and closing the other. He was trying to stay awake as hard as he could, his abdomen shook with the effort to resist breathing the water. Keith really wished he couldn’t feel it, but it had to be done.

He grabbed the human’s flesh forearm in both hands, angling and pulling on it as hard as he could. There was a _pop_ , as the human’s thumb was dislocated, and they were free. This time the he couldn’t stop the water rushing into his lungs as the pain made him gasp, the metal hand floated away from his face and Keith had the presence of mind to catch it before he could finally, _finally_ pull them both up towards the surface.

They came up a little ways away by the boat, to the not so distant sounds of screaming and the more close ones of the human in his arms coughing up lungfuls of water. Mercifully, from what Keith could see at a low angle, nobody seemed to notice them as they came up. It was an awkward swim, having to angle them up to stay above surface, but Keith made it work. The sounds of bloody murder were swallowed by the distance Keith started putting between them and the boat as he booked it towards the island he spent the night at.

Once Keith was sure the boat was out of sight he relaxed a little, and spared a glance. The human was done coughing now and was just kind of limp in his arms, eyes closed but chest definitely rising and falling with uneven, but sure breaths, the colour returning to his lips.

“You could have just taken the knife,” he muttered.

“You could have... just given it to me,” came a weak reply. Unexpected but welcome. Keith laughed.

“What’s your name?”

“Shiro,” he breathed into Keith’s shoulder, and Keith loved it. His human’s name was Shiro.

“I’m Keith,” he replied, smiling. “Now we’re even.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doesn't exactly follow the spirit of the art but It's better this way I feel  
> Also [this post](https://ageofsailsuggestions.tumblr.com/post/176153424600/force-your-new-crewmate-to-listen-to-you-by%22) is basically a TL;DR for this chapter lol


	6. Quiet

The merman, Keith, stretched his body luxuriously in one of the natural rocky pools, basking in the warm tide spray and rainwater it had collected. It wasn’t quite deep enough to accommodate all of his length so the tail fin was sticking out over by Shiro’s legs. He could apparently breathe outside of the water too, but had to stay wet if he could help it. In the sunlight, the true colour of his eyes could be seen: a rich, deep, royal purple. Even without their shine Shiro was still getting lost in them. Looking at him now, he just knew he’d do it all over again no question.

After a while of sitting there in silence, resting and contemplating, Keith spoke. It was still so weird to hear him talk but Shiro thought he had a lovely voice.

“What are we going to do?”

“If anyone on that boat survived...” Shiro said, trailing off. He had every right to feel betrayed and hurt by the actions of the crew, most of all those of the captain, standing idly by as Sen and his pack dragged him over the rail. Remembering all the times he’d called Shiro ‘son’ now made him heartsick, and could not be reconciled with the the bitter, vengeful thing he was revealed to have been.

But even as he stared at his messed up hands, he couldn’t shake the pit he’d felt in his gut over everything. He was pretty sure at least Mathew wasn’t completely in on it. He couldn’t imagine the guy intentionally ratting him out. Probably he just happened to make a joke at Shiro’s expense somewhere Sen could hear him, bringing his misgivings about the shark story to a boil.

“I have to go back there,” [Shiro decided](https://twitter.com/Its_Tane/status/1047221576184356865?s=19).

It was comical to watch a merman cross arms over chest and make some sort of rumbling noise under his breath. Maybe they weren’t so different after all. “I understand if you don’t want to come,” Shiro added, he couldn’t burden him further, he’d already saved his life, risking everything going back there while the other mer was still around.

“I’m coming with you,” Keith said icily.

“You saved my life,” Shiro insisted, “Your debt is paid now, you can be free.”

“But _you_ can’t,” Keith pointed out, clearly upset. “Without that boat, you can’t go anywhere, you’re useless in the water.” Shiro stared at him, and he stared back, features hardened in defiance.

“You want to help me?”

“Are all humans this thick or is it just you?”

Shiro laughed. But Keith only let himself sink further into the water, sticking his tail out more on the other side of the pool and flicking it back and forth like an irritable cat.

“Yes I owed you a debt and now it’s paid. Am I supposed to just sit by and let you go off to die anyway?”

Some of the grimness rolled right off Shiro’s shoulders, suddenly feeling much lighter about it all. Of course there was still the problem of the hostile merman plaguing those waters, and he wasn’t sure how they should go about it just yet. But at least Keith seemed to genuinely want to help, he wouldn’t have to do this alone.

“Could you help me reattach my hand?” Shiro asked, and smiled when Keith perked up right away. It was painful but the number done on it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. It was taken clean off the socket, which should have been an easy enough fix. After a few tries and some moments where Shiro felt like grinding his teeth into powder, it was back and working again.

“Now what?” Keith asked, staring in fascination as Shiro rolled his wrist and checked finger mobility one by one.

“Now lets build me a raft.”

\---

Keith lay on his belly, letting the waves wash over him gently as they lapped at the sand and retreated back into the ocean tide’s inhale. The human, Shiro, spent the last couple of hours going back and forth between the forest at the edge of the sand and the beach, bringing him timber to weave together with rope made out of peeled palm fronds. He'd mentioned finding a fresh water source a bit further inland, but Keith assured him he didn't need it as long as he had the ocean. He watched him carefully at first, making sure he wasn’t using his left hand that they’ve fitted with a makeshift splint. His metal arm was very strong and taking on the burden of the work just fine though, so after a while Keith relaxed about it.

Shiro took the mutilation of his hands disturbingly well, waving away Keith’s apologies and even countering with his own for leaving the bruises on Keith’s arms. Keith didn’t know how to feel about the human being this calm with everything that’s happened since they met. There must be something wrong with him if he was willing to go so far for a mer he didn’t know, and humans that betrayed him so bluntly only earlier today.

He was just so infuriatingly good and charming. It made Keith want to be braver about it all. Braver about the very real possibility they were going to encounter Lotor again.

Once Shiro deemed the timber amount satisfactory, he sat down to weave alongside Keith.

“So this... evil guy,” Shiro mused, evidently trying to distract himself form how much harder it was to knot the ropes with just one hand.

“Lotor,” Keith supplied helpfully.

“Does he have any weaknesses you can think of?”

Keith thought about it. Lotor was very strong, and very old. An expert manipulator and as ruthless as he was meticulous. He’d been draining merpeople of their life force for years and that made him nearly immortal.

“I guess he has to breathe air. No offense,” Keith said, and Shiro laughed. Keith loved making him laugh.

“None taken.”

“And he has to do this... _thing_ ,” Keith said darkly, “He looks you in the eyes and it feels like you’re both suffocating and starving even while your gills work perfectly fine and you’ve been fed only moments before. He does this so he can keep his vitality, or something. Without it he still lives but he can’t do much of anything after a while off it.”

Shiro looked at him somberly.

“Is that what he did to you?”

Keith nodded looking back down at his hands. Shiro’s hand prints were there, right beside the raw spots from Lotor’s ropes. He closed his eyes hard.

“It was stupid to let him near me. I should have known something was wrong. I shouldn’t have gone along with him.”

A thumb rubbed away the tears that rolled down his cheek, and a hooked index finger tilted his chin slightly up. Shiro’s hand felt strange on his face. The metal wasn’t cold like it was in the water, the fingers were warm from the time he’d spent working in the sun.

“It wasn’t your fault,” the human said firmly. “ _Lotor used you_.”

Keith nodded after a while, basking in the first wanted touch he’d felt since he’d been freed. When he looked up the golden eyes that had been imprinted on the back of his eyelids were replaced by Shiro’s gentle ones, grey like rain clouds watching over a troubled ocean.

He wished this moment could last forever. But something made Shiro look over Keith’s shoulder instead, his chest stopped moving like he’s forgotten to breathe. Sand scattered nearby him as Shiro scrambled to his feet suddenly, grabbing for a sharp piece of split timber. Keith turned to look behind him and whatever comfort and bravery the human had lent him earlier evaporated on the spot.

Slow and steady, a body rose out of the surface in a way so unnatural for a sea creature it could only have been done for effect. It was Lotor, riding the waves towards them.


	7. Deep

Shiro couldn’t tear his eyes off Lotor, but he could observe Keith in the corner of his eye shifting to a sitting position by his left leg, facing the water, muttering something to himself. In between the rapid ‘ _no’_ s and ‘ _how’_ s Shiro made out Keith’s quiet, horrified realization.

 _“He owes me a favor_.”

That’s how he found them.

“ _You_ ,” Lotor said, raising a pointing finger in the air, voice carrying with surprising ease over the waves. It made Shiro sick with fear, flashes of his crew-mates being cut down bled into his vision, blurring around the edges like a waking nightmare. He blinked, and he could swear Lotor was much closer than he had been just a moment ago.

“ _You took him from me!”_

Keith’s hand wrapped around his leg, claws digging into skin. It helped a little, giving him some other sensations to concentrate on.

“Shiro. _Shiro_ , he’s going to _kill_ you,” Keith said fast and harsh and breathless. “You have to run, please run, get away from here, go inland--”

“No,” Shiro said, clutching his weapon tightly. “I’m staying.”

He took a step to the side, tearing out of Keith’s hold while watching Lotor’s movements, morbidly glad to note he had all of Lotor’s attention, seeing the mer adjust and align that way to meet him. When he was sure he was the primary target, he started running. Shiro could hear Keith calling after him but it quickly dissolved into the beat of his own heart pumping in his ears as he made tracks on the beach fast as he could putting distance between Keith and the inevitable fight. Ideally, he’d distract the creature long enough for Keith to make his escape into the water, but he knew Keith wasn’t going anywhere either. Somehow, he had to finish this right there, right then.

As his opponent came closer and closer and closer, Shiro saw red. Lotor was the monster that massacred his crew and murdered countless mers. The monster who called the person he’d been keeping prisoner and abusing for weeks _his mate_. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched the mer slither out of the water on that powerful tail and come straight towards him.

Shiro dodged the first collision, rolling in the sand when Lotor was close enough to spring. He scrambled to face the mer, putting his back to the water just in time to deflect a clawed haymaker with his prosthetic elbow. The impact jarred every bone in his body but he kept his stance wide and didn’t topple over. When more of them came, he managed to stand his ground. Then Lotor retreated briefly. As he did, Shiro recognized it as a swing for momentum and had just a split second to bring the timber up to guard his throat from a snapping bite. Sharp teeth closed around the wood and Shiro just barely managed to twist out of the way with his metal fingers intact, opening space between them as the mer took a moment to spit it out and glare at him.

Shiro was allowed a few steps back, feet sinking into dryer sand.

“Curious your crew-mates chose to throw you overboard,” he said, casually picking a splinter out of his teeth with a claw. His mouth bled gold where it cut him, trailing down his lip and chin. “Seems as though I wasn’t the only one played today. Perhaps I’ll keep you too. See how long you last.”

That was all the warning he got before Lotor launched himself forward once more. Shiro wasn’t so lucky this time; the open palmed strike he aimed at his chin was easily deflected and left him wide open for Lotor to throw him down, back hitting the sand hard, knocking the breath out of him. Lotor caught his throat in one hand and his prosthetic wrist in another, preventing him from rolling away. Shiro thought he was screaming, his mouth wide open against the pressure on his neck but no sound came out, and no air came in. Still he burrowed his feet in the sand and tried to push him off, struggling whichever way he could for even a scrap of leverage. Hitting the mer with his flesh arm did nothing.

“So fierce,” Lotor said, voice dipped in twisted admiration, slow, as though he had all the time in the world. “Humans don’t usually hold for more than one doze, but something tells me I might _just_ have to tolerate being in your debt for a while.” Lotor leaned down slowly, and for a split second Shiro felt the hold on his throat loosen. He immediately sucked in a shaky breath, but what came next felt like he might as well have handed the mer his lungs in a gift basket.

The mer’s eyes began to glow, twin suns so bright they were burning spots into Shiro’s vision. Soon he couldn’t feel the hold on his throat, or his hand, or the heavy weight on top of him. All he knew was the light, and what felt like his very soul being sucked out of him. His body shook and trembled, resisting the unnatural pull, when his eyes rolled he could distantly register the tips of his black hair turning white. It was like drowning, skydiving, and being on fire at the same time. The memory of losing his arm to the shark pale and distant in comparison.

He didn’t fully realize when it was over, or how long he lay there dazed in the sand afterwards. He came to as sounds of a near by struggle slowly filtered in.

\---

Keith made his way painstakingly after the fighting pair in the sand, pushing with his tail and crawling on his elbows. It was agonizingly slow and by the time he got there Lotor was leaning in for the ritual, like the mockery of a gentle kiss. Keith was aware of the kind of state it puts the victims in, having experienced the loss of time and sense of self on his own skin, but he’s never been able to see what it did to Lotor. His tail stopped moving just as Shiro’s struggling ceased, going into some kind of trance while sucking the life out of the human.

Praying he wasn’t too late, Keith took the opportunity to sink his claws into Lotor’s tree-trunk of a tail.

“ _Get. Off. Of. Him_ ,” he hissed through gritted teeth, pulling and beating his own tail for leverage. Lotor was heavy, and solid as rocks, but somehow he’d managed to wrench him off of Shiro enough to sever the connection. He never had the chance to properly fight Lotor at the time of his capture. As it was, he’d simply let Lotor lean in close, and the next things he knew were the cell and the ropes. But not this time.

Golden blood coated Keith’s fingers as he awkwardly dragged the other mer over the sand. It wasn’t long before Lotor woke up and stared murder down his tail at Keith, and then over his shoulder at the human he had been harvesting, piecing together what happened. The whirring fear in Keith’s chest turned suddenly into white hot anger, seeing that monster throwing a lamenting gaze at _his_ human, like he had just been denied a delicious meal.

Keith tore into the membrane of Lotor’s tail with his teeth, bringing his full attention back to him. It was unbelievably satisfying to hear him actually scream though he was soon dislodged with a couple of powerful tail beats that sent him rolling in the sand. He pulled himself up and challenged Lotor’s furious glare with one of his own. Both stood on their hands, shoulders heaving up and down with short, hungry breaths.

“Is this truly how you want it to go?” Lotor said, and in reply Keith spat blood and bits of fin into the sand between them, never breaking eye contact.

Lotor sighed.

“So be it.”

Keith pushed himself forward and met his opponent in a deadly embrace. One arm over a shoulder and another on the opposite side, tilting their mass diagonally and tipping them both off balance. They fell hard on their side and grappled, tossing and rolling in a fury of striking claws and snapping tails until, inevitably, Lotor emerged on top, piling the coils of his tail around Keith’s entire body, pinning his arms to his sides and sinking his long, monstrous fingers into the tender slits of the gills at the sides of his neck.

“I tore the ocean, worried sick, only to find you here! In the arms of a _human!”_ Lotor shouted, curling his claws. Keith wasn’t using the gills to breathe on land but either way they were sensitive. His mouth was open in a mute wail as his vision began to white out from the pain.

“You know how precious you are to me,” Lotor went on, voice turning soft, morose. “I could never truly hurt you,” Keith screwed his eyes shut, then opened them wide as that awful hand moved from his throat to his mouth and pushed his chin down. His other hand gently brushed the hair out of Keith’s eyes in preparation for the ritual. “I see now that the human cannot be permitted to live. He would only come between us.”  
  
Keith’s muffled screams went unheeded, his struggles were ignored as those horrible, yellow eyes came closer, burning into him as they’ve done countless times before. Then Shiro was there, behind the bulk of the monster’s shoulder, swinging a heavy piece of timber at the back of Lotor’s head. It connected with a sickening _thud_ , and then _again_. And _again_. Until Lotor finally rolled over, limp, and Keith could wiggle out of his strangling hold and [into Shiro’s arms](https://twitter.com/Its_Tane/status/1046180363381485569).  
  
\---

Shiro let the timber drop to catch Keith, letting himself fall back into the sand and just hold on. They were both trembling and panting, exhausted but happy to be alive. His head felt like its been drilled into, but the merman’s oddly warm breath in the crook of his neck was pure tingly bliss. It was the longest time just lying there, listening to the waves, and to their beating hearts, before he let himself speak, real concern his only motivator.

“Do you think he’s dead?” Shiro asked quietly, not lifting his head.

“I don’t know,” The merman said into his shoulder. Also refusing to move.

“We should check.”

With a groan of great reluctance, Keith rolled off of him, pushing against his chest a moment longer than strictly necessary. His fingers smeared golden blood wherever they went. Shiro got up to his hands and knees and crawled over to where the giant merman was lying, thankfully still, then pressed a careful hand to his back.

It was faint, and slow coming, but he could definitely feel the hint of a breath rising beneath his fingers.

“He’s breathing,” he reported, abruptly jerking his hand away and standing up.

“Well hit him again,” Keith grumbled, curling his tail loosely around where Shiro stood. He appreciated the sentiment, but after a moment's thought stepped over it and towards the unconscious mer lying in the sand.

After a couple of tries, he’d managed to sling Lotor over his shoulder, allowing Keith to tie his hanging hands together with the rope they’ve been using in making the raft just in case, before setting a course inland. As he walked, the mer’s tail dragged in the sand, and then the leaves, leaving a clear path for Keith to follow at his own, slower pace, as Shiro tracked the little creek he’d found earlier to drink from. His whole body ached from supporting the massive weight by the time they reached the source, it was all he could do not to simply dump Lotor on the ground when they got there.

It led to a gorgeous network of freshwater pools, raising from the ground somewhere underneath the island. Quite beautiful, very loud too. Several waterfalls raged on all around, spilling water from one pool to another before separating into the rivers and creeks that would eventually find their way into the ocean. He took the opportunity to quench his thirst then went back to carry Keith the rest of the way.

One of the pools was remarkably deeper than the others, and had no obvious water source going into it. It didn’t immediately reveal itself, being partially hidden behind one of the waterfalls and a thick crop of wild trees. When Shiro checked it out earlier it seemed like it wasn’t part of the stream’s source at all, but merely a storage place for rainwater and spray, carved out of the stone by the sandpaper of nature. He could see no animals coming down there to drink, not even birds, preferring the abundant upper level supply to the impossibly smooth rocks on the way down. To Shiro it looked like a perfect, inescapable prison.

“What do you think?” He asked Keith, who'd flopped into one of the shallow pools nearby when they got there. They both kept a cool eye on Lotor’s unshifting form lying by the edge.

“It would be fitting,” Keith admitted, having considered it. “He’d still live but won’t be able to hurt anyone.”

“Alright,” Shiro nodded, then stood up. It was immensely satisfying to roll the beast with one foot over the edge. The minimal water splash on impact indicated it was deep enough to more than accommodate the mer’s full size and then some, giving him some space to swim around if he so desired. Shiro’s conscience stirred uneasily at the thought of condemning a living creature to a life of solitude, but taking into account everything that Lotor has done, it seemed right.

Keith came out of his soak in the pool to watch Lotor’s head emerge from the water, woken up by the shock of being thrown in. His long white hair swirled all around him as his head turned this way and that, taking in his new prison. Shiro couldn’t hear whatever the mer shouted over the deafening roar of the waterfalls, as he tore the ropes off his hands and tested the walls for climability. There was none. Rock walls too vertical and too smooth to get any kind of traction at all.  
  
"He owes us both favors now. This will be torture," Keith said, clutching the rocks at the edge. They both stared as Lotor inevitably found them and demanded direct eye contact. Shiro's face hardened, and he preferred to look at the merman beside him as he said the word, and meant it:  
  
"Good."  
  
Keith just looked back at him sadly.

“Lets get out of here,” Shiro said, taking one of Keith's hands in his and feeling it relax. Keith took a steadying breath and closed his eyes before taking Shiro’s other outstretched arm and letting him lift him up.

[Carrying Keith](https://twitter.com/Its_Tane/status/1046907404108075013?s=19) was a breeze compared to carrying Lotor, there were no spikes to poke at him and he was much lighter. The merman seemed to comfortably fold himself in his embrace, pressing to his chest and holding onto his neck. Shiro didn’t bother resisting the urge to rest his chin on top of his head, nesting in it and breathing the salt of his black hair. His tail tapped happily against Shiro’s thigh in rhythm with the walk for the rest of the way to the shore.  
  
As they walked, Shiro could hear Keith murmur a soft ‘ _thank you_ ’ into the hollow of his neck and smiled despite the wetness he could feel there. Lotor would never hurt him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For optimal experience, imagine Lotor flipping Shiro off when he first points at him form the waves :P


	8. Favor

Returning to the boat took longer this time, Keith having to swim beside the raft to match its slow pace whenever he grew tired of pulling it. He understood why Shiro had to go but he didn’t have to like it. He’d just been freed, and even the part of him that longed for his reef couldn’t deny the pull of the favor he now owed the human once more. He’d been delaying mentioning it, assuming they could sort it out on the boat, Keith could just bring Shiro something to eat and they could be done forever. But he knew it wasn’t just that.

He was going to miss him.

The boat kept it’s place relatively well, drifting only a little away from where they’d left it. Keith stayed in the water while Shiro climbed in to see what could be done, if at all. After some time he’d returned to sit on the deck and lean his arms on the rail, having bandaged his hurt hand with something he found inside. His face was almost as pale as the mess of white hair on his forehead. A lasting souvenir from Lotor’s ritual. Keith knew all the human bodies on the ship likely now had a full head of silver hair just like that, the evidence of how close Shiro had come to sharing that fate.

For a while, Keith watched him put his face in the crook of his elbow and his shoulders shake, mourning. Then something else made a sound from within the boat and his head whipped around to look behind him. Keith didn’t waste any time pulling himself up and on board, ready for any potential danger, but Shiro’s hand dropped onto his shoulder just as he bared his teeth at the light-haired human standing before them.

He was clutching Shiro’s knife, the one still threaded through the rope Keith used to make a necklace out of. Keith relaxed when it cluttered down on the floor as the guy rushed over and tackled Shiro in a tight hug, sinking to their knees and crying.

In the end it turned out that the human, Mathew, had survived, managing to hide from Lotor while he went around harvesting the crew. Shiro seemed glad, explaining he wasn’t part of the coup leading to his being thrown overboard. Keith supposed he was glad too, that Shiro would have company on the journey back home, wherever that was.

Deftly, he reached for the knife, and got Shiro’s attention. Mathew seemed to know to give them some space, busying himself with the beginnings of the tedious work of covering the bodies.

“Here,” Keith said, voice a bit shaky. “For saving me, again.”  
  
Shiro’s hands closed around his for a moment, holding them, before taking the blade. Keith knew the debt was now paid again, but he couldn’t help mourn its absence. Everything he will feel when Shiro leaves here will be his own, nothing to blame on any kind of merfolk magic. He was so lost in his premeditated sorrow he didn’t notice Shiro had gotten quiet, mulling over something as his metal fingers turned over the knife.  
  
“Hey,” he said, getting Keith to look at him. “I have an idea. Why don’t you keep this for me, that way I’ll owe _you_ a favor,” he dangled the knife by the rope, letting Keith take it back carefully.  
  
“It doesn’t work like that,” Keith said, looking from the knife to Shiro’s smiling face. He wasn’t sure what the human was on about but he could just damn well sit here and stare at the reflections of the sunset in his eyes forever.  
  
“I know,” Shiro said, gently closing Keith’s fingers over the returned knife. “I just want you to have something of mine. Do you think you can find this place in about one month?”  
  
Keith stared at him wide-eyed, clutching the knife in his hands before putting the rope over his head to rest on his neck, where it will be safe.  
  
“Of course," He nodded, smiling too now.  
  
“Then I will be back for that knife,” Shiro said, and [Keith believed him](https://twitter.com/Its_Tane/status/1047241590534799360?s=19).  
  
\---  
  
It was a little more than a month later when Shiro’s boat dropped anchor by the old shipwreck. Sometime after dark. There was no doubt in his heart that Keith would be here to meet him. Sure enough, when he went to sit on the lowest part of the deck, it was no time at all before he spotted a pair of beautiful, shiny purple eyes. Keith rose out of the water like an excited dolphin, and wrapped his arms around Shiro, who caught and pulled him up to lie on top of him as they laughed and hugged and kissed.  
  
Shiro had to get his affairs in order before he could come back here, and once they got past their excitement for the reunion Keith had complimented his new boat, _The Black Lion_ . He could sail it on his own, and he’d brought enough supplies to last him at least a year on the waters, planning it all out carefully during the time it took to travel home and back.  
  
He let himself relax like he hasn’t in his entire life. He’d always thought the ocean was some kind of a home to him, though it wasn’t until he’d met Keith that he _knew_ it was where he well and truly belonged. Shiro may not be a merman, but that couldn’t stop him from being where he wanted to be. Right there, in the middle of a beautiful, vast nowhere, in the arms of one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Folks I've never finished a damn writing project in my entire life and here we are! I'm super happy with this, thank you for sticking with me through to the end, I hope it was good for you, and please let me know what you thought in the comments!
> 
> Yell at me on [tumblr](https://tane-p.tumblr.com) and [twitter!](https://twitter.com/its_tane)


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